Page 160 of Ransom

His words echo in my head—ready for all the complications—and something inside, something dark and painful, breaks loose. I've spent so long building walls, convincing myself that simple was better. That the uncomplicated relationship with Adam was what I needed. No expectations, no messy feelings, just... easy.

But standing here in Ransom's arms, I realize how much I've been lying to myself. Adam was safe. Comfortable. Like wearing an old sweater that doesn't quite fit anymore but you keep it anyway because it's familiar.

"I don't want simple anymore," I whisper against Ransom's lips. "God help me, I want the mess. I want the complications too."

His hands tighten on my waist. "Blair?—"

"No, let me finish." I pull back enough to see his face, needing him to understand. "I tried so hard to keep things uncomplicated with Adam because I was afraid. Afraid of feeling too much, of wanting too much. But that's not living, is it? That's just... existing."

"You deserve more than just existing." His thumb traces my cheekbone, sending shivers down my spine. “You deserve the fucking world.”

"I know that now." And I do. For the first time in years, I feel truly awake. Alive. "Everything about us is complicated—Max, Maggie, your life in Chicago, my life here. It should terrify me."

"Does it?"

"No." The realization hits me like a thunderbolt. "That's what scares me. That I'm not scared at all. Not about us." Maybe it's the reality of losing Maggie that put everything in perspective. I've been a hypocrite. I've been raging at her for not being willing to hope. For not fighting. And yet I have this man walk back into my life, the man I've loved since I was seventeen, and I'm not going to even try?

Fuck that. I'm braver than that. And we deserve better. Both of us do.

"I'm done running," I tell him, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling his lips to mine.

49

RANSOM

Blair's words hang in the air, a challenge, an invitation. "I want you, Ransom." Her grey eyes meet mine, no hesitation, no uncertainty. Just pure, unadulterated desire. Finally.

Fucking finally.

My mind races, trying to make sense of this sudden shift. Just days ago, she'd been cool, distant, keeping me at arm's length, making excuses. Now, here she stands, walls down, eyes blazing with want. The practical part of my brain screams to ask why, to understand what changed, but the rest of me says fuck it, figure that shit out later. Blair doesn’t lie. She doesn’t say shit because that’s what someone wants to hear.

So if she says she’s in. She’s in.

So now? I’m going to fucking feast.

I step closer, the scent of oil and grease filling my nostrils, mixing with her scent, something sweet and uniquely Blair. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," I say, my voice low, almost a growl.

She smirks, taking a step back, her hips hitting the workbench behind her. "Probably as long as I've wanted to say it."

I close the distance between us, my hands finding her hips, gripping them tight. She gasps, her eyes widening, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans into me, her hands snaking up my chest, leaving streaks of grease on my coveralls. I laugh, a low rumble in my chest. "You're making a mess, Blair."

She grins, her fingers finding the zipper of my coveralls, tugging it down slowly. "I thought you liked ‘messy.’"

I do. I like her ‘messy.’ I like her wild and free, uninhibited. I like her any way I can have her.

I lean in, capturing her mouth with mine. The kiss starts frantic, desperate, our teeth clashing, our tongues tangling, our breaths mingling in the space between us. Her hands push the coveralls off my shoulders, her fingers tracing the lines of my muscles over my shirt, sending shivers down my spine.

But then something in her touch shifts, the urgency melting into something deeper, more deliberate. Matching her comes as easily as breathing. I slow the kiss, savoring the taste of her and the soft sigh that escapes her lips. My hands slide up her back, pulling her closer, holding her like she might disappear if I let go. The world narrows to just this—the warmth of her body against mine, the gentle sweep of her tongue, the way she trembles when I brush my thumb along her jawline.

I break the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, inhaling her familiar yet changed scent—vanilla mixed with something deeper, more mature. She shivers, her head falling back, giving me better access, just like she used to. She's always so strong. So determined. But in my arms, she surrenders, letting me explore her. I nip at her collarbone, my hands finding the hem of her t-shirt, pushing it up, revealing her stomach, her ribs, her breasts encased in a simple black bra.

The years changed her body—curves replaced angles, thicker muscle where there used to be softness. I run my fingers over her skin, learning what's different, wanting her even more than before. My head's full of old memories, but this is better. She still reacts the same way to my touch, still catches her breath like she used to. It's messing with my head, touching her now and remembering then, everything blurring together as I explore her skin.

She helps me pull the shirt over her head, her hair falling in a messy tangle around her shoulders. I reach behind her, unclasping her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts are perfect, full and round, heavy, her nipples hard and begging for my touch. I bend down, taking one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the peak. She moans, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her hips bucking against mine.

"Holy fuck," she groans. "I'm not going to ask where you learned that. I don't care."

She could ask, but I wouldn't be able to answer her. I can't remember my own name right now, let alone any of the women in my past. I switch to the other breast, giving it the same attention, satisfied when she groans again, sagging against me. My hands find the waistband of her jeans, popping the button open, sliding the zipper down. I cup her mound, and through the fabric, I can feel the heat of her, the dampness of her desire soaking through her panties.

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